


Love and Misery

by andonuts



Category: South Park
Genre: And gay stuff, Fluff, Friend Love, Lots of platonic stuff, M/M, Other, its good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7439111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andonuts/pseuds/andonuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tweek Tweak never thought he would make friends, let alone fall in love, but not everything seems to go as he thought it would when he starts falling in love with one of his closest friends. (CREEK FLUFF; TWEEK POV)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Say You Do

**Author's Note:**

> just a previous warning; don’t expect this fic to update regularly!! my previous fic i tried updating weekly but i kinda got distracted/bored of it and i .. haven’t updated it since… so i’m gonna try and pace these updates out more so i don’t get tired of it like i did last time!! feedback of any kind is appreciated, thank you <3.  
> this story will be in tweek’s pov unless specified otherwise.

**chapter track** : Miniature Tigers - Like or Like Like

* * *

 

_It’s almost Christmas. Actually, Christmas is... It’s, uh, the 18th now, I think? Christmas is exactly a week away_

_And holidays mean big parties, of course. Which believe me, I try my hardest to avoid them, but when one of your best friends is hosting one of the biggest-- ...Okay, THE_ **_BIGGEST_ ** _party in South Park, it’s hard to find a way to get out of it. And of course, as a person with awful anxiety, sensory issues, and would rather stay in their room listening to music and reading, it’s never a pleasant experience for me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends a lot, it’s just... T-Too much sometimes. For someone who dreams of being an actor, it’s kind of pathetic how just a simple party with wild teenagers that I usually always see would freak me out so bad, but…. I guess I can’t entirely blame my constant instability. It’s also to avoid certain people. You know, the typical Cartman, and… uh…_

_Yeah._

 

_Just Cartman._

 

_I don’t get how just one person alone could be so hateful and loud. I feel like if no one but him were going, he would still be loud enough to account for an entire party. I’ve asked Token before to stop inviting him, but last time he did that Cartman came anyway and said something about how, ‘since his best friends are going it’s only fair that he came too!’..._

_And, of course, I just so happen to catch myself rambling aimlessly about things I’m dreading. Again._

I glance at my alarm clock.

 

_At 3am._

 

_It’s hard to not think about things you’re dreading though, I guess. Especially considering this is mostly unavoidable. The only possible excuses I have are “I caught the flu” or “Something major happened in the family and I quite literally am not allowed to go or else”. I know I can’t use either, though, because they’ll know I’m lying unless it_ **_actually_ ** _happens. They usually send Kenny to inspect and if they find out that I’m making things up they_ **_literally_ ** _drag me off to the party._

_Sigh._

_Think, Tweek… How can you get out of it this year? You have a week to plan this! There has to be something!_

I fall back on my bed, staring at the gentle blinking of my christmas lights.

_Why is it so hard to avoid something so simple like this?_

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Sleep is most likely my best option at this point.

 

I soon drift off to sleep before I even realize it.

* * *

 

_2 hours later, at 5am,_ I’m awoken by the sharp beeping of my alarm clock. Of course, as usual, I nearly fall off my bed in panic. I _really_ need to get a new one. One that’s less… _scary_ , preferably. Reluctantly, I turn my alarm clock off and tread slowly down the stairs to get breakfast, rubbing my eyes. The house is silent. In all honesty, I’m not surprised, considering my mom and dad usually leave to head to open up shop the second they open their eyes. I do my typical morning routine. Brew a fresh pot of coffee, pour a bowl of cereal, get milk, and...

There’s no milk.

And, being the impulsive self that I am, I groaned and poured some of that freshly brewed pot of coffee into the bowl along with my special holiday travel mug. I’ve done this before, and honestly it’s not all that bad, it’s just extremely inconvenient when you’re trying to get ready for school and need to wait for the coffee-milk to cool down.

I sit in a daze, waiting impatiently to eat my budget breakfast. Soon after, I find myself completely dissociated. At least 30 minutes pass, before...

My phone lights up, followed by a gentle buzzing on the kitchen counter.

Before I even get a chance to check my text message, Clyde busts through my front door, scaring me so bad I nearly drop my bowl of cereal.

 

“W-What?! How did you get in!? The door was locked!!”

“You keep your spare under your mat, don’t you?”

“N-No???”

“Oh.” Clyde gives me a suspicious look, then proceeds to shake his head and go back to his original smiley expression he came in with. “What’s taking you so long? We’ve been waiting outside for you for, like, 10 years! Hurry up!”

“W-What?!?”

I glance down at my phone and check the time. It’s 6:15. They usually come to pick me up at 6. Apparently my thoughts got so ahead of me that I was just mentally rambling for an entire hour.

“O-Oh Jesus… I’m so sorry I-I had no idea! I’ll just be a second, I s-swear!!”

 

I scrambled up the stairs, still in my puppy pajama pants, praying they don’t leave without me. How could I let my thoughts get THAT ahead of me?

I change into pants, slip into my binder and messily button up my shirt (incorrectly, as usual), nearly falling down the stairs in order to get down there before they decide to bail and make me walk.

By the time I get downstairs, Clyde was already helping himself to my freezer and had made himself waffles.

 

“Oh, there you are!” Clyde slurs with his mouth full, spitting waffle crumbs everywhere. “I helped myself, I hope you don't mind.”

I shrug, giving a playful disgusted look at him. He sticks his tongue out, which of course has chewed up waffle all over it.

“Ewwwww, you’re gross!”

Laughter ensues. Clyde nearly chokes on his waffles until he proceeds to hard swallow it.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before they leave without us!”

 

We walk out the door, scrambling to get into Craig’s dad’s truck. Craig only has a permit so he’s technically not allowed to drive without an adult, but that’s never stopped him before.

 

“Hey, Tweek!” Token cheers, chimefully.

“M-Morning Token!”

 

I wave at Craig through the rear view mirror and he nods with acknowledgement, then proceeds to turn on the car engine and cranks the volume radio.

There’s an unspoken law that when Craig’s driving and has the radio on, no one’s allowed to speak. I’m not sure how that law came to be, but music is important to Craig, so one can only assume how mad he would get if you took that away from him.

 

I took this opportunity to check my texts.

Even though I’d already presumed it was Token or Craig texting me to ‘get the fuck out here’ or something, I wanted to check anyways. It gives me comfort to know I’m caught up with my texts.

And, just as I’d figured;

 

**6:14am - From Clyde** : where tf are you did you fall asleep in your cereal or something

**6:15am - From Clyde** : get out here before i break in there

**6:15am - From Clyde** : too late fucker here i come

 

_At least he warned me, I guess?_

I put my phone away and take the car ride to school to look out the window and try to recollect myself. Watching houses pass and trees sway on the way to school is oddly soothing to me. It helps me regulate my breathing, as weird as that may sound.

 

Craig always puts on indie rock stations.

Surprisingly, I really love his music taste.

It’s comforting.

It’s so odd that someone who’s so cold and apathetic as Craig Tucker manages to comfort me so much. If anything you’d expect me to be horrified of him, but I really can’t help but feel like I’m safe around him. He’s been my best friend for who knows how long, and it feels like he’s always there for me. Protecting me, even.

He makes me feel like I’m at the home I never had.

 

I can’t put my finger on why.

* * *

 

_Time passes and eventually we pull into the school parking lot._

I take a few minutes to actually find the energy to get out of the car. I rub my eyes, yawn, and sluggishly unbuckle my seatbelt and open the door.

Usually coffee’s my number one source of energy, but I took an especially long time to get ready this morning, leaving me unable to either eat my coffee-cereal, as well as leaving my mug on the counter while I was so rushed to get out the door. For now, I just have whatever remains of my energy to the end of the school day.

 

_Look out school, here I come. I got 2 hours of sleep and I’m already ready to pass out on your desks!!!_

 

Upon closing the car door and letting out a long yawn, Craig silently greeted me with a small smile. Of course, I smiled back, but instead of a small one it was probably very big, clumsy, and embarrassing.

This just made Craig’s smile widen.

 

Token and Clyde come around the other side of the car elbow in elbow, Token chuckling and Clyde groaning and rubbing his cheek.

Craig looks over, snorting. “What, did Clyde fall while trying to get out of the car again?”

“Of course he did.” Token playfully nudged Clyde. “He’s as clumsy as ever.”

Clyde stuck out his tongue.

Token sighs jokingly, tugging at Clyde and walking towards the school. “Come on, guys. We’re gonna be late at this rate.”

Clyde snorts and mutters under his breath, “Pfft… That rhymes.”

“Stop that.”

 

After a brief laugh, we start heading towards the school. I fall behind a bit, trying my best to find the energy in me to keep up. They alternate their pace to match mine until we eventually reach the school and get indoors.

Clyde makes a beeline for the nurse’s office, and we head our separate ways to go to our classes.

 

My schedule is mostly electives this semester, thankfully. Photography, art, theatre and graphic design! Thankfully Craig, Token and Clyde fit a few of those classes into their schedules as well, so I won’t have to worry about being that alone.

Except for photography.

I don’t mind it that much for photography, since it’s a pretty independant class on its own anyway, not to mention we’re barely ever in the classroom, but it’d be nice to have some company.

 

Regardless, I find my way to the classroom and take a seat, pulling my camera out of my backpack and settling it gently on the table in front of me.

I doodle on my hand a bit with pen to keep me from falling asleep. I doodle stars and planets, even a little cactus in a pot and a guinea pig. Before even realizing it, the bell chimes, startling me. I snap up in my chair and avert my attention towards the front of the room.

The teacher gathered her folders, tapping them on the table to even them out. Her voice rings out, “Alright class,” Heads across the room turn or look up in her direction. “Today I will be allowing you to leave the building in order to take photos. As long as you don’t go too far, I will allow you to leave school grounds for this. Please don’t take this as a free period, either. You know who you are.” She looked in Stan’s direction, and he groaned in return. “Don’t worry about checking in before class ends, we can do that tomorrow. Just be sure you take some pictures. Class dismissed!”

 

The whole class seems to stand up in unison, pushing and shoving towards the door to be the first out. I grip my camera tightly in my hand and wonder where to go.

For the hour of class, I decided to wander around the school. This was mostly an excuse to see if I could find Craig, but I ended up taking a lot of pictures in the library. The lighting was especially nice today, and I found it made a perfect photo opportunity.

Once the bell rings again, I gather my things and head to my next class.

 

...and then the next class.

 

...then the next.

 

The whole day turned out to be the same as the rest. Long, uneventful, and draining. 

It’s always the same: Craig and I work together silently during art, Clyde and I joking around in theater, and Craig, Clyde, Token and I being off task and making silly things in graphic design.

It’s always fun, but always the same.

Thankfully for me, today’s a friday. I can take this as an opportunity to catch up with my sleep schedule, and--

 

_Pfft._

_Who am I kidding?_

 

After school ends, we all pile into Craig’s truck again, and head off to Craig’s house.

It’s become our after school routine to go to Craig’s house, oddly, and he seems to really enjoy it. He has a lot of collectible figurines and posters around his room, Stripe (of course), glow in the dark stars stuck almost everywhere on his walls and ceiling, and a big Red Racer blanket draped over his window. Almost every time we go over he seems to have more in his collection, from superhero action figures to small Red Racer pins and stickers, all of which go on display with love and care on a large shelf over his bed. Each and every time we go over, he enthusiastically jumps up on his bed and takes his new figures off to show to us or pulls out his ukulele and plays something he recently learned. This is one of the few times we see him express any emotions besides apathetic, sarcastic or aggressive, and I cherish every last moment of it. It makes him seem a lot less scary, and a lot more like a huge loveable dork.

Craig gets overwhelmingly excited and happy whenever he gets an opportunity to talk about his interests. He always begins to ramble, talking about his favorite characters or episodes, naming them by episode number, season, you name it. He always seems like a completely different person when he’s talking about what he loves.

I don’t know what he plans to show us today. He never tells us, but we’ve learned it’s better to keep it as a surprise and not ask about it. Whatever it is he has planned, I’m excited to see.

I peer over Craig’s shoulder and look at him through the rear view mirror.

 

I can tell by the look on his face that he’s excited, too.

* * *

 

_The sound of everyone opening their car doors snaps me out of my daze,_ and I hastily unbuckle my seatbelt and pop out of the car, catching up as quickly as I can. Craig is almost in a full sprint, pulling out his keys and waving for us to hurry up.

 

As we enter the Tucker household, Ruby runs up to me and greets me with a wide smile. She silently takes my hand and tries dragging me over to her room before Craig defensively chimes in.

“Ruby, not now.” She pauses and looks him in the eye with a frown. “You can do whatever tortuous things you tend to do to him _after_ I’m done, alright?”

She sneers and raises her middle finger, letting my hand drop to my side. Craig does the same in return, grabbing my arm. Ruby continues to silently run back to her room, shutting her door.

“Sorry about that.” He tugs my arm and takes a step forward, indicating for me, Token and Clyde to follow him. “Shall we?”

We all seem to almost nod in sync, walking towards his room.

 

Immediately upon entering, I take the liberty to look around in awe, attempting to spot anything new he has planned to show us. He only continues to drag me along, though, and gestures for us to take a seat on his bed. Clyde lays comfortably, sprawled out, leaving me and Token to sit on the edge. Craig then silently goes over to his ukulele case and pulls it out, checks to make sure it’s tuned, seamlessly flowing into a song.

He hums the melody, fingers moving from chord to chord fluidly.

Token claps along to the beat, and soon enough I find my feet swaying to the beat as well. Clyde is humming along, closing his eyes and smiling.

I look around me, smiling. It’s times like these where I remember how thankful I am to have my friends.

 

It helps me remember that, even in the worst of things, life isn’t actually as bad as it seems.

 

Craig looks up from his ukulele, strumming gently and smiles at the sight of us enjoying his music. He ends the song with a quick strum, props his ukulele against his wall, and finishes with a bow.

We break into applause. Token gives a supportive whistle.

 

“Thank you, thank you.” he chuckles. “I’m here all week.”

 

After applauding, I found myself still kicking my feet happily. Despite my 2 hours of sleep and repetitive day, it always feels like I can rely on them to boost my mood.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Token speaks up.

  
“Hey, Tweek, plan to go to the Christmas party this year?”

 

I feel my throat close up and my heart start to race. I slouch over and shrug guiltily, trying desperately to find the words I wanted to say.  
  
“U-Uhm-- M-Maybe… I don’t actually, uh, know if I’m free this year, b-but, um,” my hands start to shake, soon finding them fidgeting with my collar. “I d-don’t know if I’ll have a ride o-or if my mom will want me to stay home and work on chores, o-or--”

“Hey, dude, chill out! It was just a question! It’s not the end of the world or anything.” Token flashes a quick smile. “If you can’t come it’s fine, dude. I understand.”

“D-Do you mean it?”

He nods. “Of course! If it turns out you can’t make it or something we can just make it up with a movie night or sleepover kind of thing! My place!”

Clyde seems to almost shoot up. “Sick! We should have that whether Tweek goes to the party or not, dude. That sounds like it’d be fun!”

“Are you sure you aren’t going to just be in it for the food?”

“Do you blame me?! You have so much! It’s like a food wonderland!” Clyde starts to drool. “I can only imagine…”

Token snaps near Clyde’s face, snickering. “Helloooooo, Earth to Clyde? Are you in there?”

Clyde pushes his hand away. “Pfft. Quit it.” He glances over to Craig who was sitting on the floor, absentmindedly strumming random chords on his ukulele. “How about you, Craig?”

 

He looks up with a distant look in his eyes, then blinks. “Huh?”

 

“Do you plan to go to the Christmas party, or what?”

“Oh, I dunno. I might actually stay home this year. Parties aren’t exactly my thing, you know? I’m more of a ‘stay at home and wait for my early demise’ kind of guy.”

“Hey, don’t be like that!” Token retorted, with a small glimpse of concern in his eyes. “We love your company, Craig. Right, Tweek?”

 

My face probably lit up, but I quickly nodded and smiled. “Y-Yeah, Craig! We care about you a lot!”

“Yeah!” Clyde added.

Craig snorted. “Hey, I was joking.” he paused for a second, but then looked up at us and smiled. “I appreciate it though, thanks.”

“Wow, Craig Tucker actually accepted a compliment and _thanked_ us for it, nonetheless! Incredible!” Clyde snorted loudly. “Just joking. We love you, Craig. Seriously.”

“I dunno why you guys like me that much.” He layed on his back and looked up at his ceiling, eyes looking progressively more distant as he continues. “I’m just a kid that has a passion for dumb cartoons and can kinda play the ukulele. I’m not exactly the best friend to have.”

“H-Hey, that’s not true! I-If it weren’t for you, this friend group wouldn’t exist! You’re the one that helped me really, um, w-well, make friends to begin with.” It took my best effort to not blurt out everything I absolutely adored about him, fearing it would come off as creepy. My voice trailed. “Not to mention, u-um, you’re one of the few people I actually feel _comfortable_ around.”

“Exactly!” Token and Clyde spoke in unison.

Craig smiled, continuing to speak quietly, “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He looked over at us, eyes looking glassy. “I’m really glad I have you guys.”

“We’re glad we have you, too, dude. Seriously.” Token smiled. Me and Clyde nodded with agreement.

 

Craig usually doesn’t get this way much. Sure, he jokes around a lot, but he’s never actually… Cried around us like that before. Granted he didn’t shed a single tear, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he genuinely _felt_ something. I felt worry coarse through my veins, but the feeling eventually faded when we broke out into a more lighthearted topic.

From Craig showing us silly tricks he taught stripe to us playing video games, the next 3 hours seemed to fly by almost instantly. Spending time with them never seems to last, not because of getting bored of it, but because we genuinely don’t have enough time.

Token gets up and holds up his phone. “My dad said he’s here to pick me and Clyde up, so we gotta go. He’ll be pissed if we’re not out there immediately.” He walks towards the door and gestures for Clyde to come with him.

We all wave to him, and Clyde lets out an upset groan. “Aaaaaww, we were just about to get to the boss, dude! Are you sure we can’t stay for a bit longer?”

“I’m sure. Sorry. We gotta go right now.” Clyde reluctantly hits pause, trudging over to Token. They both wave to us and say their goodbyes, leaving not too soon after.

 

Now it’s just me and Craig.

 

“Hey, Tweek, when are your parents coming to pick you up?” He leaned over a bit to look at me, and my eyes widened.

“A-Ah, um, I… don’t think they are. They have a lot to deal with, y-yanno? With Tweak Bros and--”

“Wait, you mean you have to walk home?”

I nod.

“In the cold?”

Nod.

“...Do you wanna sleep over?”

I nod quickly, and Craig immediately shoots up and opens his dresser. He pulls out a pair of space bed pants and throws them to me, as well as a baggy Red Racer shirt. You could tell these two things were his absolute favorite clothing items, both from the appearance of wear and also the fact that these both picture two of his absolute favorite things. I hold them up.

 

“W-Wait, do you have anything else?”

He looks over his shoulder, still digging through his drawers. “Huh. Why?”

I look away, feeling embarrassed for asking. “W-Well, aren’t these, you know, your favorite? I-I don’t want to wear what you’d usually wear…”

He shakes his head. “It’s fine.” He pulls out a spare pair of blue plaid bed pants, as well as a plain red and black t-shirt. “I have these.”

“H-Huh? Are you sure? T-Those don’t look nearly as comfortable as these…”

“Exactly. You’re the guest.”

“N-No, Craig, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this if you don’t want to…”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“...A-Alright…”

 

After an awkward silence followed by us taking turns getting changed in his bathroom, we both settle comfortably in his room. At this point it’s only 6pm, barely late enough for the sun to just be setting.

“Hey,” Craig got up before I got to say a word. “I want to show you something.”

 

I looked over to where he was going, noticing him picking up his ukulele. “Huh? What is it?” I blinked curiously. “Did you learn a new song?”

He sat next to me, apathy plastered over his face. He didn’t say a word and started strumming.

The chords were the same as the song he showed us earlier.

 

“Huh? Didn’t you alrea--”

 

Before I even got to finish my sentence, he started singing.

 

Not humming,

 

Not whistling,

 

But singing.

 

It’s… hard to describe what I was feeling. It was both a mixture of being impressed and surprised, with a bit of amazement sprinkled here and there. I’ve never heard Craig sing. I never even really _knew_ he could sing, and boy could he. Despite his usual nasally apathetic voice, his singing voice seemed like it was coming from an entirely different person. It took me a few minutes before it actually registered in my mind that he was singing, and nonetheless singing to _me_.

The song he was singing was a love song about unrequited love, asking if the other liked them or not.

 

I wasn’t sure how to feel.

 

When he was done singing, he put his ukulele down in his lap and looked at me with large, expecting eyes. He was noticeably sweating, most likely from nervousness, and his hands looked shaky.

I wasn’t much of a sight, either. I still didn’t know how to take it. The only response I could give was my red face, jaw slightly agape from amazement.

 

“...Well?”


	2. I Hope You Like Me Too

 

**chapter track:** dandelion hands - i like you

* * *

 

_ I couldn’t speak, the only movement I could make is the intense, involuntary quivering that spread throughout my body. _ I attempted to stay composed, using all possible strength to try and find words to respond to his. His face scrunched up, looking away from me and tightening his grip on his ukulele.

I desperately tried to choke out something.  _ Anything _ . “I- I--” I cleared my throat and shook my head to snap myself out of whatever trance-like state I found myself in. “I- I really l-”

He shook his head. “No, nevermind.” He then stood up, propping his ukulele back on the wall and turned around to face me. His face was plastered as the straight face I usually see, frowning a bit when he made eye contact with me. “Are you okay?”

“W-Wait, what about--”

 

“Forget about it. You’re crying. Something’s wrong. Are you okay?”

 

I touched my hand to my cheek, pulling back when I felt that not only was my cheek practically on fire, but it was completely wet. I wiped my face on my sleeve, nodding and hiccuping through tears.

 

“Y-Yeah, um… I’m fine.” 

 

How did I not even realize that I started crying?

 

“Are you sure? Sorry if I did anything that upset you.” He sat back down next to me, handing me tissues. I refused them, smiling through tears.

 

“N-No, um, you didn’t do anything. S-Sorry for randomly bursting into tears like that, um--” I wiped my face on my sleeve again and tried to calm myself down. I watched Craig get up, pulling Stripe out of his cage and settling down next to me once more. He let me hold him, probably in an attempt to calm me down, and wouldn’t stop asking if I was okay. I gently pet Stripe with my finger, nodding wordlessly at every time he would check up on me. He didn’t know what to do, I could tell. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know either.

 

I kept finding myself crying again and again, completely involuntarily. I would think about how he sang to me, or how he looked at me when he was finished, or even just…  _ Him _ in general. 

I kept thinking about how I still wasn’t sure if he was asking me out or not.

I kept thinking about how I didn’t know if I was in love with him or in love with how much he cares about me.

I kept thinking about how terrified of my emotions I am.

I kept thinking about how confused I am.

 

Craig, in a manner of confused concern, pulled out his laptop and began to show me animal videos. He showed me songs he wants to learn, cartoons he’s getting into, and even merchandise he wants to buy. I could tell this was a way to distract me and maybe even help me.

 

Eventually I found myself calming down. 

 

We ended up watching Disney movies together, wrapped up in blankets and loudly eating chips to make up for Stripe’s gentle, content squeaking from his cage. We usually always do this if the other was upset at one point or another, and we usually find ourselves rewatching a lot of movies, but neither of us mind. Disney movies are me and Craig’s mutual comfort, it seems, and we both know a lot more about them than we should.

My favorite movie is Aristocats, and Craig’ is Lady and the Tramp.

This time, we’re watching Zootopia for what feels like the 10th time.

Despite being almost completely immersed in the movie, I can’t help but feel guilty. Craig had put so much courage into singing for me, and I couldn’t even find the words to tell him that I at  _ least _ enjoyed it. I’m afraid he might be mad at me or, maybe even just disappointed.

I would ask him, but I don’t want to bring it back to light. I don’t want him to be upset or get the wrong idea. 

From the warm red light coming through the blanket over Craig’s window to the look of anticipatory nervousness on his face, however, I know I won’t be forgetting that moment any time soon.

 

I just wish I was able to return how I felt to him somehow.

I decide to stop thinking about it for now. If he chooses to bring it up again, I can talk to him about it then.

 

After watching a few more movies, I break my eyes away from Craig’s computer screen. Aside from the light emitting from the screen and the soft glow coming from his glow in the dark stars, we are completely submerged in darkness, unaware of how much time has passed us. I nudge Craig and ask him what time it is. He tells me it’s about 11.

 

My eyes are stinging and heavy, both from exhaustion and tears, and I rub my eyes in hopes that it’ll rub away my sleepiness as well.

 

Craig closes his laptop lid, wordlessly pulling me closer.

I end up falling asleep on his shoulder, clinging close and wrapped in what feels like genuine love.

 

I think I love him, too.

* * *

 

 

When morning comes, it hits me  _ hard _ . My head is pounding, my eyes are crusted shut, and I find myself in an entirely different position than what I fell asleep in. I wipe my eyes, opening them to the best of my ability, eyes stinging from bright sunlight and still swollen from the night before. 

I sit up and scan the environment looking for Craig, chest aching from not taking my binder off from the night before. I realized that I’m no longer laying on him, but instead tucked into his bed. He was probably the one who put me here, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I assume he’s making breakfast, or--

 

Hold that thought, what time even  _ is _ it, anyway? 

 

I rub my eyes once more to rid myself of whatever dreariness remained, stretched,  and walked out to the kitchen to search for Craig. Instead of finding him, I found his mom, cooking eggs and tapping her foot to the beat of an 80’s radio station set up on the counter. I seat myself at the table and look over at the oven clock which reads ‘9:45am’. Mrs. Tucker looks over and waves to me and smiles, somehow still in sync to the beat.

“Good morning, Tweek!”

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Tucker. Um, h-have you seen Craig yet? He’s not in his room…”

 

She lowers the radio volume without breaking eye contact with me, concern stretching over her face. “That’s odd. I haven’t seen him yet this morning, though, so he’s probably still in the house somewhere. Unless he snuck out the window!” She chuckled to herself and went back to cooking, turning the radio volume back up. “Don’t worry too bad, Tweek.”

 

I nodded, rubbing the side of my aching body subconsciously.

“Alright, Mrs. Tucker. Thank you.”

 

“Of course, sweetie! Now, aren’t you hungry? I’m making some eggs for you boys if you want any. I think we have some bacon leftover, too, if you want any!”

 

“A-Ah, thank you again! You didn’t have to make me anything thought, really.”

 

“Naw, naw, I wanted to!” She gently scraped the eggs onto a plate and handed them over to me. “Help yourself!”

 

I flashed a quick smile and took them in hesitation, body still trying to wake up, still trying to figure out why it wasn’t being held when it woke up. For some reason, my brain has labelled it as a dream, something far too wonderful and joyous to be true. Did me, Tweek Tweak, really deserve something as genuine and fantastic as that experience was? Do I really deserve the right to be so  _ happy _ , so content and safe to the point where I feel more at home with him than I do with anyone else? I decide that my mind is probably making this whole situation up to fill in whatever gaps between me and Craig’s relationship had in order to fulfill these stupid, unrealistic fantasies I’ve been having. I decide that I’m mistaking these small, friendly signs of affection for something much greater than it really is. I decide that I’m thinking too much.

All of those times our hands clasped like like my anxious, clenched jaw, or the brief moments where our eyes met and for a moment and I swear I could see his face flush a soft, rosy color before shifting his gaze. All of those moments were just filled gaps in my mind. Cavities filled by a fake, imitative substance. No more than imagination.

I blink my eyes to wake myself up from my thoughts, hand still grasping the plate of eggs, hovering right where Mrs. Tucker had handed it to me. She had already turned around and started making a new batch, so thankfully she didn’t get the chance to notice my moment of brain-deadness. I turn around and place them on the table and start eating.

 

As always, Mrs. Tuckers food is  _ godlike _ . She manages to bring out the truest flavor of everything no matter what it may be. She always adds spices to every dish she makes, whether it be as simple as eggs or ramen. In fact, I think I’ve seen her add spices to  _ coffee _ before, as weird as that may sound. However, cinnamon and vanilla in coffee is a  _ lot _ better than you may expect.

I rub my eyes again, still feeling heavy and irritated from little sleep. They seem to try and close on their own, and I have trouble keeping myself awake. After eating, I push my plate to the side and rest my head on the kitchen table.

 

I fall back asleep before I know it.

* * *

My eyes crack open to a dream, kneeling in a hazy field of sunflowers, knees planted in a soft patch of grass much like the flowers surrounding me. My whole body feels like it’s aching, dull pains surging through my body. I squint and look at the sun, eyes stinging from the sharp rays shining into my eyes. My unconscious mind is fully aware that this is a dream, but is still worried to some extent that it could somehow be real. Quickly, my mind brushes this idea aside, barely comprehending its own contents.

I twist my body around in confusion, trying to possibly find a purpose for me being here. Within that field I find something blue, out of place, a bold contrast against the greens and yellows which I seemed to blend in with perfectly. I see it moving.

My whole body quakes in reaction to my attempt to move my arms or my legs. I attempt to get up or wave to the figure, but I stay planted in the ground like a stone. In the distance, I can see the blue figure turn around, facing me with a confused gaze. I now realize that he most likely can’t see me, making me try and force a stronger attempt to move to get his attention. Just my luck, I’m still stuck to this position. I even try calling out, but my jaw is clenched and won’t move, additionally incapable of making even the smallest sound to make it clear that I’m not a flower. This figure soon turns back around to walk away.

Only then am I able to unclench my jaw and shout.

* * *

I wake to the gentle, soft touch of Craig nudging my shoulder, his eyes glossed with concern, filling me with a warm feeling of relief and safety. I let out a soft breath through my nose, exhaling all built up stress and worry that filled my chest from this morning. Craig leaned over and pulled me to his chest, hugging me tightly and rubbing my back for comfort.

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“Um, I’m fine. W-Why? Where were you? I-I was,  um,  really  worried. ” My voice eventually trailed off with the last sentence, breath heavy and hot, lingering paranoias and intrusive thoughts clinging to each puff that left my mouth. All of these fears exited my mouth and into Craig’s clothes, soft and filled with warmth, disappearing and being replaced with love rather than doubt. With each time Craig’s hand repeated the rubbing motion on my back, I seemed to calm down more and more, falling closer into the comfort of his arms.

 

“No, no, look, I’m fine, Tweek. Are you  _ sure _ you’re okay? You were yelling in your sleep and squirming a lot and you seem  _ really _ shaken up.”

 

“It--” I remembered the dream and I wondered as to whether or not I should explain to him what it was and what happened. Would he think that the blue figure was him and get the wrong idea? ...Actually, thinking about it,  _ was _ the blue figure him? I still wasn’t sure. “Um, it’s nothing. It was just a really weird dream and, uhm… R-Really all it was was one of those dreams where y-you know, you couldn’t move at all, and it was really scary, and--”

 

He interrupted me by sweeping my bangs off to the side and planting a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls me closer into the hug, breathy reassurances being whispered to my side, just loud enough for me to hear it. Heat radiated from my face, eyes feeling hot and wet like they had the night before. 

 

I wriggled my way closer into his grasp to hide my blushing face, along with my teary eyes that might show just how much I care for him. It… Feels weird to be like this; to cry because of how much you care about and love someone, to be so  _ weak _ to your own positive emotions that you can’t really withstand it without breaking down. It makes it so much worse when you’re not entirely sure how the other feels about you, to be so curious about whether or not the other feels the same that you need to force yourself to suppress these emotions.

 

However, the kiss he planted on my forehead blurred my understanding of my own desires and reality. Mixed with last night, I’m not sure what to believe.

 

Should I ask?

 

Before I had enough time to think, he held my shoulders and pulled me back, looking me directly in my teary eyes and rosy pink face. I made an attempt to look away or hide it, tears overflowing in a sense of embarrassment.

 

Before I could do anything, before I could even register what he was doing, he grabbed my chin and pulled my face closer to his.

 

He then proceeded to kiss me.

 

And, now, it’s not like the kiss from before that was just a tiny peck on the forehead, but a full out kiss.

 

It lasted for a second, but in my mind it replayed over and over in my head, and I feel like if I could, I would relive it forever. 

 

That kiss spoke millions to me, as if every single thing that we both wanted to say to each other was transferred wordlessly to the other. It was almost as if, for that single second, that touch allowed me to read his mind, and allowed him to read mine.

 

I realized finally that all of these fantasies I’ve been having weren’t fantasies at all.

 

This is the real thing, and I’m living it.

 

We’re living it together.

 

After a few moments of silent admiration, gazing into eachothers eyes as if expecting an ounce of regret, or, maybe even expecting to wake up from a wonderful dream, he let out a really deep breath.

 

“Tweek, last night, when I played that song for you,” A bullet of sweat dripped down the side of his face as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “I played it as a sort of confession, but…”

 

“B-But?”

 

“...I… Wasn’t expecting you to cry like that. I was worried that you didn’t know how to react and didn’t want to hurt my feelings, so you just translated that feeling into tears.”

 

“N-No, not at all, Craig… I-I mean, I did cry because I didn’t know what to do, I guess. I didn’t even really know that I was crying until you pointed it out…” I let out a nervous laugh, voice cracking from crying so much. “But… I didn’t know what to do because I didn’t know for sure because I didn’t know if it was  _ what I thought it was _ , y-you know? B-But, um…”

 

“Wait, wait, you didn’t know? Hah, I thought I was being ridiculously obvious about it.”

 

“S-Same here…”

 

“I guess we’re both really dense people then, huh?”

 

“Hehe, yeah, I guess so.”

 

We broke out into childish laughter, giggling softly to each other as if we let out our worst, most terrible secrets and were making fun of each other for it. In a way, this was true, but instead of our worst, most terrible secrets, they were our best, most wonderful ones. 

 

We both let out a really big breath, almost simultaneously, as if all of this weight we’ve been carrying was let out in a single moment, tension easing from between us.

 

“Hey, hey, Tweek!”   
  


“Huh?”

 

With his monotone, nasally voice, he let out the silliest “I looooooove you!” I’ve ever heard.

 

I felt my heart nearly jump out of my chest. 

 

My hands instinctively covered my face, and through a mess of snorts and giggles I responded, too.

 

“I love you too, Craig. I love you  _ so _ much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the kinda short chapter this time !!! i'm feeling some weirdly intense writers block recently for some reason bleghhh... hopefully the next chapter will be a lot longer!!! ive got a lot of plans in mind >:~333


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